Dead Zone, Dotted Cartogram
by Dr. Captain Pepper
Summary: Within the confines of a building lies someone that Squalo is looking for... Squalo x OC. Rated T for language and light lemon. COMPLETE!
1. Dead Zone, Dotted Cartogram

**Howdy Howdy  
><strong>wow it's been a day.

Got this crazy and surging inspiration, and wrote this one shot for **RikRikz**.  
>She is a great fan who is very cool. Very Patient too.<p>

Hope you like it!  
>I tried a little bit of a different style of writing for this one.<p>

**Now for the Protocol:  
><strong>word count: 2,510

[I do not own any KHR characters]  
>I take claim to the OC 'Sacha' in this shot<p>

=Advice/Comments are loved=

**_Dee_**

* * *

><p>The night has encroached on the sun's reign and swiftly eats the beams away. Twilight will soon dominate the sky. It is time. Through the forest races a man in an outfit suitable for a funeral: jet black pants tucked under matching thick but light boots whose lacings stretch up his calf; not to forget the medium-lengthed and double-breasted black trench; and his signature prosthetic. Superbi Squalo has somewhere to be—it is of utmost importance.<p>

With ease the man jumps outrageous lengths, tree to tree, covering the great distance to his target quickly. He doesn't have much time since the commander can't ever leave the boss to his own devices too long. That man would kill everyone. Squalo snorts to the thought of his boss and speeds himself up. 'I'll be there in less than five minutes.'

And just as the arrogant man thought, he reached town in four minutes. Hearing people nearby, he drops out of the tree, landing quietly on the soft grass of the park. 'I've gotten pretty close. If these damn people weren't out, I could've gotten closer.' He trudges calmly out of the woods and onto the sidewalk path where there is a couple walking their pets. The little dogs bark and growl at the intimidating man.

A middle-aged woman gives him a warm smile while trying to reel in one of the Napoleon Poodles, "Please excuse them, they never act like this."

The assassin grunts and keeps walking.

Her smile fades as she and her husband watch him disappear in the distance.

With a flip of his long silvery locks, the tall man keeps a smug expression while inspecting the vintage shoe factory now in front of him. Broken out windows, crumbling bricks, and a missing door—'This is the place?' He walks inside. Nothing. The place is nothing more than an old and empty warehouse covered with mold-ridden walls and disintegrating murals of illegal artistry. "Fucking shit."

He kicks some rubbish on the ground and walks out.

Outside the building, he gives one more inspection of the trashy place. Twilight has won the battle for the sky, making it harder for the man's silver eyes to notice, but the moonlight is enough. Squalo suspiciously checks his surroundings and jumps. His feet tap onto the roof. "Hmph, think you're fucking clever, huh," is what the hot-headed man says as he slyly and quietly breaks the lock of the door hidden on the dilapidated building's roof.

From here is darkness: darker than the twilight that beat the sun, darker than the wine cellar under Squalo's childhood home. He walks inside, unafraid. Too bad it was too dark to see that he was walking confidently into a stairwell. He almost ate it.*

But Squalo is too cool to fall.

The Varia issued boots remain soundless as the assassin creeps into the secret establishment. Down the stairs and through a simple doorway—twilight greets him once more in the form of moonlight. It's shining brilliantly through the tempered windows of what Squalo is finding to be a hidden loft. He's in the kitchen. It is clean and seamless with stainless steel and what looks like a ruby colored granite in the dark.

Sighing, the shark treads lightly inside the house, avoiding the breakfast nook and glancing over the appliances. Fridge. The man is hungry. 'I haven't eaten today. It's that fucking Lussuria's fault! He had to make those goddamn brownies today! Flambouyant fuck!'

His stomach growls.

Then his mouth growls.

Squalo walks on.

Easy enough, it is only a few steps in the wall-less expanse that leaves the Varia Commander in a lounge area on the left of the loft. It's layered in vibrantly patterned rugs all over the concrete floor and has oversized loveseats that are strewn across from each other because of a large bay window that the moonlight is forcing itself through. He takes a few steps, looking at the small plants on the windowsill and the large bookshelves filled with antique-scented leather-bounds and hardcovers. There are a few notebooks laid on top of the books here and there too. His eyes squint to look at some of the titles, but grunts, pissed that he can't read them. They're all written in French.

Finally the man turns himself to the right corner of the house he hasn't inspected, seeing a large and wooden posted bed. The posts are carved to have a smooth and spindled design and there is netting laid over it—'Che, looks fucking stupid.'

So the man sidles. Centimeter by centimeter the commander creeps. The fancy bed that looks fit for the prince doesn't move. Now he stands next to it, sword raised. Slash. Feathers blast.

"Hnn?" A small girl in the bed laid on her stomach turns her head and peeks slightly.

Squalo clicks a lamp on the side table.

Her hand slaps over her eyes; "Mmmmgh. You know it's like 3am?"

The shark barks, "It's 7:30! Get your fucking lazy ass up!"

Her finger spread, revealing one deep blue eye, "Hah? 7:30? No way." Her face tucks back into the pillow.

"You fucking slept the day away again!"

Still sprawled on the poofy bed, her shoulders shrug, "Eh. I could use a little more sleep."

"GET THE FUCK UP!"

He destroys a feathered pillow.

She lets out a soft tenured grunt.

Squalo watches the girl sluggishly roll out of bed. Only wearing a loose and sheer white tank and black boy-shorts, he looks away when she freely stretches her small but toned body. The small squeaks escaping from her mouth during the blissful stretching make the shark close his eyes. "Hurry up."

"Not until you pay what's owed."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

She looks at her fingers that are rising to her list, "Steel deadbolt, down comforter…"

"VOIII!"

She raises an eyebrow, hand extended for payment.

He glares at her for a few moments until he caves and slaps 500 euros in her hand.

The hand stays.

He growls, "What?"

"500 euros? I couldn't even get a blowjob with this."

"VOII!"

"We both know why you're here."

Silver eyes toggle left and right; another 500 euros fall in the girl's palm.

"Thanks Superbi. Now give me the hand."

Squalo quickly twists the prosthetic hand off and gives it to the ambiguous woman that goes by the name Sacha. The girl waltzes off to the kitchen, pulling Squalo along behind her. His stomach growls again. She chuckles a response, "I have some Chicken Marsala from earlier in the fridge. Help yourself."

He glares at her. 'She looking down on me?'

She snickers, knowing exactly what he's thinking. "Superbi,_ please eat my Chicken Marsala_. It would make me very happy."

The glare turns incredulous.

She laughs in her softly themed voice. Crouching down, her hand swipes a large kitchen rug to the wall and opens a secret latch on the floor, "Come down here when you finish."

The shark grumbles and opens the fridge.

* * *

><p>Feeling more lax after eating, Squalo climbs down the ladder into the hidden workshop. It's not large, just enough to cram any kind of tools you would need to fix various pieces of technology. Sacha's expertise lies in specialty weapons and modification, but will work on anything, for anyone, with enough to pay for her labor costs. She finds it easier and more lucrative to play Switzerland; she's also not the type to harbor such superfluous emotions like angst.<p>

In the middle of the bomb-shelter like room, under the bright light of one low bay, fluorescent lighting fixture, Sacha takes a moment to scratch her wispy pixie cut and chide the shark. "Who have you been giving my hand to tune up? They're tactless."

"Giannichi. And I tinker sometimes too."

"Giannichi? That fat guy that works for Timoteo?" She puckers her naturally pouty and full lips while shaking her head. "I can't believe you let a two-bit* mechanic work on my masterpiece. It makes me sad kind of."

"Well you've been missing for a few months now."

"Yeah… I've been on a wild goose chase as of late… Sorry about that." She eyes him cutely.

"You could buy a fucking phone, you know."

She smacks her workstation. He hit a nerve. "Hey. I get paid to tinker with technology, that doesn't mean I have to let it run my life." She looks away with a non-ferocious snarl, "Che. Cell phones," then throws her hands in the air.

The Varia Commander takes her commentary on cell phones as a reminder to check his own. No calls, no texts, no emails. All is good.

"Hey it's a dead zone here for phones."

"VOIII!"

She laughs and continues to dismantle the hand. Squalo is freaking out—his subordinate (secret friends) could be dying at this moment, and he would never know. He shrugs his shoulders, "Fuck em'."

* * *

><p>A few hours pass and Sacha is actually starting to break a small sweat under the tubed lights that are keeping her more than toasty. Squalo has even taken off the trench that is rarely removed, under it being a long-sleeved and deep crimson V-neck tee. Sleeves are scrunched up just under the shark's elbows.<p>

It's hot in the tool house.

While playing angry birds on his useless brick of technology, he sits on a stool in the corner and lets his back rest against the concrete wall. It 's the only thing keeping the room remotely cool.

"Geh, I hate doing this."

Sacha loses concentration and watches Superbi throw his long hair into a simple ponytail. She loves seeing him with his hair up. A smirk cracks through her serious expression. "You always look good like that."

The man grumbles and goes back to his game and Sacha goes back to her tinkering, after she slyly licks the corner of her lips. Squalo didn't catch that one. He is too pissed off about how much he sucks at the game. He's about to throw the stupid fucking fruit phone at the wall. 'Teach those stupid fucking birds what anger is.'

A few more hours pass, and Sacha hands Squalo his newly tuned prosthetic back and takes her other masterpiece—the sword she made him. Of course, neither one claim her craftsmanship for the sword or the hand that were made pro bono.* It would lead to more drama than either want. She has plenty of customers that don't like the Varia, plenty more that just hate Squalo. He's not the easiest man to get along with.

Her eyes slide down the blade: first inspecting the edges, finger sliding against the central ridge, squinting to inspect the point, finally blowing into the four holes that shoot out small spurs of gunpowder. She grins.

"This thing looks like shit. Have you been cleaning it?"

Squalo looks up after pausing the session of poker on his phone, "Hah?"

She shakes her head and stands.

Squalo watches Sacha wander off to a tall, metal shelving unit that is cluttered with smaller tools, rags, brushes, and liquids in glass containers. He pays special attention to how her arms and legs define to her tip toeing to grab what looks like a heavy box. "Uh, I—"

"I got it."

The box plops in her arms.

Back at the desk, the girl pinches her straight nose and then scratches her head once more, before going into sword mode. Some kind of brick looking tool in hand now, she grinds against the swords blade. Squalo keeps staring at her, now noting her faintly defined cheekbones that bring more focus to her eyes that are similar to the oceans deeper depths. She wipes more of her unnoticeable sweat away, and the shark goes back to the poker match on his phone. There is silence, but a comfortable silence that they both enjoy.

Mafioso or not, Squalo is a man with pride. Being as prideful as he is, he would never admit how he likes just lazing around at Sacha's place. When you put a hot-head together with someone who's presence is calm and understated, one will change. The shark always finds peace. But Sacha is like the wind and follows her whims, showing little to no loyalty to anything, let alone commitment. Squalo, along with plenty others, find her whimsicality hard to deal with too.

'Battery less than 20%'

Squalo presses the 'ok' button and puts his phone on sleep, watching Sacha clean the holes out of the shot chambers. Though he didn't want to bring it up, there has been something that has been bothering him all night. It's time to bring it up.

"So where were you?"

She looks up, "Hn?"

"After the Inheritance Ceremony. I see you once, you ask me about that senile fucking gook, and then take off. Where the fuck did you go?"

She puckers her lips, not sure if she wants to tell.

Squalo rolls his eyes, "Gimmie the fucking sword. I'll finish this up myself."

"I was looking for Talbot—I'm still looking for him."

"Why?"

She tilts her head, "Why not? He knows how to turn jewelry into weapons."

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THAT?"

She pushes the sword away, "I wanted to make you and the rest of the Varia rings… I thought about it a lot, and I know I need to affiliate with a side. I'm going to get killed if I don't."

"You know that—"

Sacha smiles at him, "I know you would, but I can't just have one guy protecting me from the world. I can do 'give and take' for the Vongola. Plus, we won't have to be secretive anymore."

Squalo grumbles, "More like you'll have to stop being secretive."

While giggling, she sighs, "Yeah…" Sacha then ganders at the sword once more and wipes it down with a rag. She tosses the rag. "Well your longsword is a masterpiece again. Happy Birthday all over." She then looks up to light and scratches her head. "Damn… March 13th… it's coming up soon."

Squalo walks over to the table and pushes all of the tools and his sword over to the side. Sacha looks up to him as he picks her up and sets her on the table, standing between her legs. Another smile escapes her to the feeling of the shark's hand inching up her back and eventually to her neck. He pulls her in for a gentle kiss, lightly biting her bottom lip.

Sacha wraps her arm around the hot-headed Mafioso while asking, "I'm glad you found me." She winks at him. Little did she realize that the small reminder of finding her made him pissed off all over again:

"YOU EVER SEND ME A FUCKING LETTER IN BRAILE AGAIN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

* * *

><p>*Pro Bono - comes from the latin phrase "pro bono publico" denoting work undertaken for the public good without charge<p>

*Ate it - fell face first (I like the way 'ate it' looked more)

*Two-bit - an old term used to as a way to describe something being crappy and cheap. Comes from the time when penny pieces were made to be fourths, and goods could be bought for half a penny (they were usually crappy things), which were called 'two bits' of a penny. Hence the name.


	2. The Importance of Maps

**Build God  
><strong>and then we'll talk

^Good song.

Nothing too much to say on this. Was requested for another chapter, it was fun to write. I showed a lot of her personality in this one. Kind of worried that Squalo might be a little OOC in it, so let me know if he is.

Ah, and I do like writing this story, but I don't really have any plans to update it since I'm trying to focus on my current series and one that I'm planning to start soon. So I'm sorry if you really likes this, but hopefully you can find other stuff of mine you like too.

**And for the Protocol:  
><strong>word count: 2,567

[I do not own any KHR characters]  
>I do take credit for the OC Sacha and her character concept.<p>

=Advice/Comments are loved=

* * *

><p>"YOU EVER SEND ME A FUCKING LETTER IN BRAILLE AGAIN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"<p>

She chuckles and responds in her soft voice, "But you can't read and write French, and Italian would be too easy for other people to read."

He throws his arms up. "JAPANESE!"

She raises a brow. "Uhh. Just 'cause the Vongola makes all of their members speak Japanese doesn't mean I have to know it. If I were going to learn any East Asian language, I'd learn Mandarin. Way more useful."

"VOIIII!"

"Hey. Volume control man; these ears are precious." She covers her ears and scrunches her face at him. The woman needs her hearing for tuning weapons.

He looks away and snorts.

Under the hot fluorescent tubes the two stay. The voices from their mouths also delay. Their noses lightly bring forth the noises of breaths until the sound of small hands sway. The silence is broken. They rub up Squalo's crimson sleeved shirt while Sacha speaks, "Hey, look at it this way: you learned braille."

He rolls his eyes.

She smugly smiles and looks at the tools on the bench. "I think that it's impressive… That message translated to English, so you had to translate _twice_. What a cool guy you are."

The Shark mutters unintelligibly, ready to kill her for the sarcasm.

"I know. Let's go upstairs and I'll give you a massage."

The man doesn't want to admit it, but the back rub sounds like a great idea. With the recent abuse from the Boss, food fights, and Bel tripping him down the stairs earlier today, it could be easily assumed that he needs it. But the man keeps his pride and glares at her. "Back rub and my money back."

"No deal."

"Che. Fine. The back rub."

The small girl smiles and brushes the metal scrapings off her tank. They catch onto Squalo's shirt. He growls, and Sacha playfully growls back while brushing him off too. She also takes the moment to feel his chest. The world will never know if brushing the metal scrapings was done on purpose. But the metal scrapings find their way to the floor. Her feet find the floor soon after.

Foot taps and boot taps trail to a metal ladder.

Hollow knocks sound up the exit.

A fluorescent light is clicked off in the last second.

Back in the kitchen, Squalo watches the pixie-cut brunette skip in front of him happily. There are metal scrapings on the butt of her boy shorts. The little silver flakes shine and sparkle against the black fabric easily. He attempts looking up to the gray ceiling, but he is attracted to the sparkle—like any shark.

"Enjoying yourself?"

He looks up to Sacha's face, realizing he's been caught. "You've got shit on your ass."

"Eww. Get it off."

He jumps. "I'm not wiping shit off your ass!"

The girl glares at him for a second, and then proceeds to take of her panties. He instantly looks to the ceiling and attempts to hide his desire to look. After a snort, she walks around the only wall in the loft that divides the kitchen from the rest of the living space. He looks back down, now glancing over the brick walls. "Why the hell did you take your underwear off!"

She yells back as loud as she can, but it comes out at the same level someone's normal voice. "You said there was shit on my butt! That's gross!"

"I meant metal shit!"

The mechanic comes back into the kitchen wearing a nude-colored tank and baby pink, bikini-shaped underwear. Mesh. The shark could see it. He scowled and huffed to the temptation. Sacha could see through his attempt at nonchalance, but decides to continue the conversation. "Then you say metal shit, not shit. Those are two wayyy different things."

He grumbles.

"Now take off your clothes."

"GEH?"

She laughs. "The massage. They feel better with your clothes off."

With a skeptical glare, Superbi first unbuckles his belt. Sacha can feel her nipples hardening. She remembers. The seamless kitchen echoes to the clinking metal of a buckle as pants are undone. A smirk breaks through the brunette's blank stare. It's tingling. Her toes curl secretly. She keeps her stare fixated on Squalo's eyes as he pulls the shirt off, revealing a well-defined, t-shaped torso. Her memories are even going as far as the scent of his sweat.

He sits.

The memory fizzles. "What the hell?"

He gives her a weird stare. "I've got to get my boots off."

"Oh." She looks away with flushed cheeks.

Squalo sits on the metal chair that resembles one you would find in an ice cream parlor as he unlaces the knee-high boot in a systematic fashion. The process repeats. The boots sit next to the parlor seat and the shirt sits on the parlor-like table. He looks at the petite, blue-eyed girl. "Now what?"

"The pants."

He raises a brow.

"You can take them off when we get to the bed."

A squinted eye and gaping mouth complete the canvas of his face.

With a devilish grin the small girl leads. Her hand lightly drags the assassin behind her. First past the dividing wall, then over the many rugs on the concrete floor, his steps are soundless from his socks and hers are light pitter-patters from skin. They stop at the bed. There are feathers everywhere.

"Hmph, I can't believe you destroyed my pillows."

He groans.

"Pants off, then get on the bed."

Like a good boy, the shark obeys. He wants the back rub. Only in boxers now, the light-skinned man lays in the white bed. His stomach and face lay into the berth. He is surrounded by fluffy. He is surrounded by feathers. "Fucking feathers…"

Sacha lifts herself onto the bed and crawls on top of him, ending the procession by sitting herself on his butt. He notices that she has lost weight, but says nothing. Her hands have already started the tension-relieving process. A deep breath escapes to the slow circles that the balls of her hands knead into his back. Running down the muscles right next to his spine, the feeling gets better and better the lower she goes. She smirks and starts rubbing her thumbs into the muscles along his tailbone until they loosen. The shark is ready to sleep. He's not minding the fluffiness anymore.

Her hands continue their work and his mind continues to liquefy. The shark's breaths become softer and softer as her hands trail onto his neck, and then to his shoulders. Down the arms and to his hands—Squalo's body starts to feel heavy as it unwinds. The way her nails are lightly scratch his scalp makes his skin crawl. Though he's falling asleep, Sacha sees no reason to stop. She has saved the best part for last.

There is a squeeze.

A shark flinches awake. "VOIIII! WHAT THE FUCK!"

"What? I'm rubbing your butt. Is it a big deal?" Her blue eyes are staring at his glare innocently.

He doesn't know what to say, but it is turning him on.

She shrugs her shoulders and keeps pressing her finger tips into his the muscles with spider-like kneads. He smashes his face deeper into the fluffy pillow. Slowly the spiders walk. They walk pressing their little feet into his thighs. Then they turn back into hands, gripping his thighs with a good pressure to pull the knots out. He lets out a hidden pant to the loosening of his legs, but the thickening of something else. It's stirring a buzz in his head.

Hands move lower.

Calves are rubbed out.

Then socks are removed.

"OI! Don't touch the feet."

Sacha trails her nail in his arc and watches the shark flail. He's ticklish. The small girl can't help but do it again. Superbi instantly gets up and throws her on the bed. "Hey!"

Her glance is on something else. There's a smirk.

The Varia Commander remembers what her rubbing caused and tries to get off the bed, remembering that he needs to get back to his headquarters. As much as he would like this to continue, he knows the boss won't be happy if Squalo is gone too long. As his foot touches the cool concrete, the mechanic takes a hold of his wrist.

"Don't leave."

"Boss is waiting."

"But I'm sure Xanxus won't mind this one time after he gets a ring from me, or some upgraded guns."

"He doesn't care about shit like that."

She rolls his eyes. "You obviously don't know your Boss."

Squalo sets the other foot down on the concrete, and Sacha quickly crawls to the edge of the bed and stands on her knees. She gives the Commander her complete attention as he grabs his clothing. Before turning back towards the rest of his clothes, he spares her one more question. "What?"

"This isn't fair. You always say I never put enough time in. And here I am, putting the time in. So what do you do? Walk away. This is bullshit Superbi; you're obviously not worth my time."

He glares.

"Go ahead and leave, but don't come back either. You know my work for you has always been because I love and care for you, but I can see that it's nothing you find worthy of reciprocation."

Before Squalo can even respond, Sacha turns herself around and hides herself under the covers to hide her reddening face. He looks at his clothes and then back at the lump on the bed. He turns and starts to head towards his boots.

The lump mumbles, "Stupid wig-head shark…"

He whips back around. "VOI!"

From this alone, is the shark on a rampage. The Commander throws the clothes on the ground and jumps on the bed and kneels on top of her. He yanks the red microfiber blanket off Sacha with ease to see her curled up with a pouty expression. "You want to say that again?"

She doesn't look or respond to him.

"Hey!"

She covers her ears.

Sacha keeps confident as Superbi rolls her to her back. She closes her eyes, still wanting to be difficult. The shark is only becoming more annoyed with the situation. So in attempt to win this, he grabs her wrists and pins them to the bed. "Oi. Look at me."

She opens one eye.

"You want to say that again?"

"Nope," And she wraps her legs around his body.

Now really pissed with it all, he can only think, 'She wants to get fucked? I'll show her fucked' and rips her underwear off.

* * *

><p>What was a dark loft echoing deep sighs and loud moans and heavy groans because of an angry shark, is now a quiet loft that is brightly lit by the parlor table and couches, but fades to a shadowy abyss by the bed and entrance. Soft breaths loom in the covers of the wood-posted bed, but under the one red blanket with white pillows and covers lies one. The person's hand slowly rubs over their eyes before reaching over to a missing presence.<p>

"Sacha?"

Silver eyes look around groggily to find a brush and a small note written in Italian:

Superbi:

If you're reading this, then that's means I have taken off for round two of my search for 'the old gook' (The man rolls his eyes thinking, no fucking shit). If you're _really _curious as to where I am, look on the first bookshelf, eighth shelf. From there look five books down for a book titled "Neuf." Look for my lucky number.

I also left you some breakfast on the stove. Please eat my breakfast Superbi. It makes me happy when you eat my stuff. ;)

-Sacha-

While one hand is running the brush through his soft mane, the other is crumpling up the paper. The shark grumbles to himself and then gets out of the bed. He can't believe that girl; all that bitching and complaining, and then she's the one who doesn't even say goodbye.

"Fucking bitch."

He quickly put his clothes on and wanders to the first bookshelf as the note instructed. He may be pissed, but he's also curious—like any shark. Eight shelf, and fifth book named "Neuf." He immediately flips the book to page 457 and drops the book.

"GEH!"

Inside the book was a picture of him from high school.  
>It also happened to be from the time when he was really into "The Matrix."<p>

He shakes his head. "What a stupid picture of me."

He tries to think what kind of clue that could be, knowing that Sacha has good reason to stay away from the location of their school—Northern Italy. He grabs the book and opens back up to the lucky page only to find that he missed a drawing of a key, and a sideways smiley face in a ¾th's complete box. The left side of the box is missing

"What the fuck is this shit?"

He stops: Me, Key, Shi (the smiley face), Ko (the box missing one side)

"Messico*?" He looks at the book again and instantly gets pissed. "SHE FUCKING KNOWS JAPANESE?"

He throws the book on the couch. There's a crumpling sound in response. He looks over to see a map of a Latin country on the couch. Two steps over and he sees that it is a map of Mexico—just like the clues told him. He scowls and grumbles at the paper that has large stickers all over it. He look outside and sees that he needs to go. A light switch in his head clicks: connect the dots. 'She always played those stupid things in school.' He gave the map one last gander.

Messina.

"SHE COULD'VE JUST FUCKING SAID SHE'S IN SOUTHERN ITALY!"

Being so irritated with her, books, maps, and language in general, he threw his hands in the air violently before ripping the map to shreds. He doesn't know this, but this is exactly what she was aiming for. She only wanted to let him know where she is. Of course, the shark only sees her little scavenger hunt as something to keep her laughing while he searches. He instantly starts to leave.

"Fuck eating her breakfast."

He walks past the stove that has a plate full of bomboloni* and a small coffee maker full of warm coffee for him to serve himself. No glance is spared for the simple and sweet breakfast. But a glance is spared for a postcard taped on the stainless steel fridge. It wasn't there last night.

The picture on the front showed the ruins of old Greek and Roman Theater that is a known tourist attraction in Messina. He glares at the photo, unsure if he really wants to continue with her stupid games. He goes back to grab one of the many little doughnuts on the plate, and then grabs the postcard taped to the icebox. On the back are a taped-on key and a small message:

_Ti amo  
>Verrò a casa presto<em>

* * *

><p><em>*Messico - <em>Mexico (in Italian)

_*Bomboloni - _Italian doughnuts

+Also+  
>I put a hint as to the pairing of the next series I'm starting on. Five points if you guess it.<p> 


	3. Blackmail is Always an Option

**Heyyyy Kidzzz  
><strong>Would you like some candy?

Hahaha, if you ever hear someone say that in real life... run. Run like a scalded ape.

Oh my god I sound like seven cups of crazy. Lack of sleep does that. But this is chapter three of this little story here. I was finished with it, but my long-time Beta and close friend **Ausumist** requested that I make this chapter as her birthday wish. Though a day late, I hope it makes you grin like a fox named Gin.

-And if you guys are wondering, I am done writing this story (if you look at my story info on profile, you will see I am really busy with my other series), but it is something I would write more on as a request. Just don't plan on getting that request by Thanksgiving.

**Now for the Protocol:  
><strong>word count: 4,057

[Props for all KHR characters goes to Amano Akira]  
>I just claim Sacha Beauchene<p>

And a mighty thank you to HanakoAnimeaddict for playing beta.

=Comments and Advice are always welcome=

.**Captain**.

* * *

><p>Sultry. This is the only word that comes to Sacha's mind as she sits on the dirt floor working over a small melting pot. Her lungs suck in more of the stifling air inside the ramshackle house. The linens fastened over shattered windows sway to the hot air drifting inside, but the doorway remains open to all. It welcomes the soft rain and thick air from outside. At this midnight hour it welcomes anyone searching for the untraceable.<p>

While giving her floor-bound workstation a quick inspection for all of her necessary items, her arm brushes against the scalding kettle. Sacha instantly flinches away with a hiss, holding in the long slur of profanities she wants to yell. Giving her forearm a careful touch, she bites her lip.

"Don't look away too long, you're getting there," says an old man now looking over her shoulder. His thick shawl, a faded red from the sun, brushes her back and the heavy beaded necklace clangs by her ear. Sacha's deep blue eyes give Talbot a brief glance before nodding and focusing on the fire in front of her. The metal inside the tiny kettle now glows a bright orange. Talbot's aged finger points to the ore. "Just a little bit more."

"Gotcha," the small woman replies with a nod. As the timeless jeweler walks away quieter than most assassins can, Sacha wipes the sweat off her forehead. "Grandpa Talbot, tell me a story to pass the time."

The hunched man looks to the ceiling of the old house made of a brown, cement-like mixture. His masked eyes search for something relevant, something marvelous. Talbot slowly reveals the story of one of the best swords he ever made, a mighty blade for the first Sword Emperor. Talbot's voice even rumbles when he says the swordsman's name: Tyr.

The apprentice listens to the mellifluent tale while setting her pestle inside the liquid metal and striking her hammer for the first time. A quick hand extinguishes the flame under the pot. Even Zeus feels the urge to create, his lighting building and traveling across the clouds in preparation. Talbot just smiles, speaking over the clamor of a new soul coming to life. "The sword was a beast, bloodthirsty and wild. And when Tyr held it for the first time he shivered to the power it possessed. The first thing he said was its name, il mostro."

Sacha's chest flutters to the thought of the monster: his enormous teeth, gnarly claws, and fearsome eyes. Her hammer pounds the pestle again, feeling the soul she is meeting to be that of an antihero. It will accomplish by any means necessary. It will fight. It will overcome.

Thunder claps above. The rain grows fiercer.

Talbot strides over to his apprentice's side. "This one is strong. Sturdy." His creased hand lightly moves hers away from the pot to inspect the ring more. "What is its name?"

"Lo schermo dell'osso."

Talbot nods. "Finish him up."

The petite girl hammers hard and hammers soft, working through the humidity in silent exasperation. She pulls the ring out of the cooling vessel and lets her tiny, deft fingers work the finishing touches. The metal is still warm as she forms and shapes the ring to a perfect size for its future user. Talbot is sitting nearby, silently overseeing her every move. His veiled eyes even scan over the microscopic 'S' she inscribes on the band's underside.

Lightning flashes the room away from Sacha and Talbot's sights, and only Talbot smiles his nearly toothless smile to the soundless guests standing before them. His apprentice is unaware of them until the soft din of dripping water catches her ears. It is then that Sacha's almond-shaped eyes finally take notice of the four pairs of thick boots in front of her, as well as a small child. Her head cocks to the side. Her eyes rise upon the black uniforms in front of her. Her mouth gapes too. In front of her stands Superbi Squalo and a small child she recognizes as the Varia leader, Mammon. Flanking the two are Belphagor and Lussuria; Levi stands quietly behind them all—until he notices the girl in front of them is not wearing pants. "Whoa."

"Superbi?" She questions, almost in disbelief of what she is seeing. Of course she sees four oddly dressed men behind her high school heartthrob, but gives them no attention. They are not the man she has shared her bed with. "Did you come to find me?"

Eyes fall upon a certain rain-covered shark.

The Varia commander jolts back, his long white hair nearly whipping his youngest workmate in the face. "VOI!" he roars in his normal tone.

Sacha cringes and clamps her hands over her ears.

"Ohh~" Lussuria calls ever so cutely. His hands clasp together under his chin romantically as he quips, "Who would have guessed our loud mouthed commander had a secret girlfriend~"

Superbi snaps back at the feather fashioning fuck. "Like hell she's my fucking girlfriend!"

"Yeah, we only see each other occasionally and have casual sex. There's no true relationship," Sacha declares.

All Varia eyes flutter to the woman sitting on the floor in a sheer white tank top, then shift back to the flabbergasted shark. Levi A Than's eyes dart back to the braless French maiden again. His dark skin hides his blushing cheeks, but cannot hide slightly parted mouth. How else is he to react to erect nipples?

Levi lets out a heavy breath.

"Ohoo~" coos the only Varia leader wearing sunglasses—until a swift elbow crushes his nose. Squalo glares at the him ferociously. Belphagor and Mammon instantly move aside as Lussuria is launched back towards the doorway behind them. But poor Levi happens to be perfectly placed to catch the Mohawk assassin and does so with his whole body. Superbi snorts at both of them, Lussuria the smartass and Levi the pervert. 'Fuck you both,' he thinks to himself angrily.

Talbot and Sacha both keep quiet, entertained by Superbi Squalo and the iron justice he uses on his cronies. Spread across the leathery-skinned old man is his toothy smile, just as Sacha's small lips are stretched over a wild grin. To the young apprentice sitting on the cool, dirt floor, it is the Superbi she remembers from high school. "Superbi, you really are a maverick, huh?"

The snickering Prince in the corner of the room stops and looks to Sacha. "Who is she?"

"Sacha Beauchene," answers Mammon. "She is a weapons maker with no current family affiliations. It is rumored that some of her best customers are the Gigue and Caracassa family."

Sacha's smile swiftly slips, for a mere child to know so much about her ruffles her feathers. It also rattles the sense of comfort she had just a moment ago, but it is gone for only a second (Mammon is not completely up to date on her doings). The small woman looks back to Superbi with a new intensity, this stare being more of question than excitement. He can only return with a similar stare of his own.

Then Mammon adds, "She also attended the same school as Squalo, Xanxus and Dino, but she was kicked out for indecent sexual conduct."

Squalo's gaze grows incredulous. "Sexual conduct?!"

She snorts. "The situation was greatly exaggerated." Then the small girl turns her cheek to the claims. "Plus, I told the teachers 'I quit' before they gave me the expulsion. So that makes them retards for their redundancy."

A pinky rises, and Lussuria smirks. "To think, our Commander has a thing for the perverts!"

The commander's glare darts back to the cheerful Nak Muay and makes clear his tightened fist. The Shark is tired of everyone's shit already. "Shut the fuck up and remember why we're here!"

"Shi shi shi shi," snickers the young prince in the corner. Blushing is the lip-pierced oaf, Levi, now standing next to the prince. And quietly entertained is old man Talbot in the back of the room, knowing the Varia could not have visited to simply prattle about such trumpery.

Squalo's disposition completely changes, with a turn of his focus, to the man who has walked the earth since the time of Vongola's Primo. Calm and professional, the commander speaks many decibels lower than usual. "Talbot, we have come to request that you make us rings that can release our flames and upgrade our weapons."

Talbot is silent for a moment. The thin, black cloth covering his eyes conceals any apparent reaction, as his lips remain stretched in a kindly smirk. Another moment passes before his head dips for a heavy nod. "It was only a matter of time; I knew this upgrading the new candidate's rings, and I knew when my apprentice found me… I accept your request. My apprentice and I will get to work tonight."

While Squalo, Lussuria and Levi seem perfectly fine with the response, Mammon however is not. "You think I will pay for an apprentice's work?"

The French apprentice shoots a nasty glare at Mammon. "Excuse me?" She lets out an exaggerated huff before slurring, "Squalo, teach your little twerp some manners before he's taught what applied force on a blunt object does to a skull."

Levi, Lussuria and Belphagor titter in their own fashions while Mammon returns Sacha's threat with a deathly stare. Superbi watches them both with a pleased smirk. Child fights are always good sport.

"Well," Talbot muses, "I could do the work myself, but it will come at a higher price. I'm not sure one would want to pay that kind of money for simple rings. My apprentice can make you top quality rings just fine."

"No! I will pay everything I have!" The tiny assassin squalls, now feeling cornered between his concern of quality and his concern of money.

Sacha still sits on the floor before them, keeping her haughty pretense up and hiding her concern of the cloaked child who is too well spoken and informed to simply be a child. Mammon has officially become her new person of interest; she will pursue any and every benefactor and client for any information about him until she even knows what shampoo he washes his deep purple hair with. The hunt has already begun.

"Very well then, I will need two days to make them. Sacha, go into town and get extra supplies for us while I get started."

"'Kay," she replies. The small girl stands, slithering into another room long enough to grab her patchwork fabric bag and a wraparound skirt. Squalo averts his gaze from her mint green boy shorts. He also hopes that she will put a bra on.

When flitting back into the room of males, Sacha sees that Levi is the only one blatantly staring. While tying her skirt into place, she cocks a brow and quips, "Eyes off pal, you couldn't even afford my hands on your umbrellas."

"Wh-what?" Umbrella man shouts.

Squalo grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose as his high school stalker struts out of the house while slipping a pair of strappy sandals on. 'She's not going to put a bra on.'

* * *

><p>Next night is with skies all the different from the night before. Clear and stellar, the moon beams down soft and easy. Its blatant appearance up high leaves room for the clandestine below. The five Varia leaders return to the small, ruinous house near the southern shores of Lipari; they have come to check Talbot's progress.<p>

Their movements are lightning fast and deathly quiet. Superbi leads their party. Through salty winds and scattered trees the first-class assassins race—they aim to beat their travel time from yesterday—the odds look in their favor.

All five stop before the small cottage, and Levi curiously looks at his watch. He's pleased with their faster time, though his counterparts show no visible interest whatsoever. Each gives the surrounding area a seemingly careless, but truly sedulous, look-see before walking through the linen-covered threshold. Inside is old man Talbot, skin leathered a deep brown and graying mow-hawked hair, sitting at a small table in the corner immersed in work. Whispers can be heard escaping the grandpa's lips; they are sweet nothings to be heard only by the rings. Lussuria and Belphagor both call the man crazy in their own fashions. The old man pays no mind and chatters on.

Sacha walks through a doorway across from her busy master and sets a warm cup of tea on the corner of his workstation. Peering into the small kettle full of liquid gold in front of her, she asks a quick question and is given a quick answer. Talbot then gestures her to the front door. "Please take care of our guests.

"Huh?" The short girl says before looking back and realizing that Superbi and 'those other guys' are back. "Sure." She casually saunters over to Superbi, her high school kingpin, and gives his various sized friends in various black outfits a gander. "So what brings you and your Matrix cosplay friends back to this part of town?"

"We're not cosplayers!" Levi yells, appalled. Squalo shoots her with a glower. "Voi!" Belphagor makes a plethora of finely crafted knives appear in his grasp. "Let's just kill her."

"Whoa~," Sasha counters coolly. She eyes Squalo more while pointing to Belphagor. "This one must be Neo… he's even wearing a crown to show he's on top." Then she playfully wriggles her eyebrows. "Better watch out, Mouse."

"Mouse?" Lussuria questions in a perverse tone.

Superbi growls at her playful jibes and quickly tells her to shut the hell up. Before Sacha can taunt him further, Mammon asserts that they have come to check the status of the rings and the terms of payment. The youthful apprentice checks back to her busy master, waiting for an approval. Talbot's pestle knocks lightly on the wood table he sits at. Sacha then crouches down, slipping a folded note to the tiny Varia leader. The action allows Mammon's taller associates to see the small breasts under her sheer gray tank.

"On this is the price, account number and routing for payment. Transfer the funds by tomorrow, end of business day. If they payment is not made by then, the price increases twenty percent. Do you accept these terms?"

The girl inspects her person of interest while waiting for his response. The child (maybe dwarf) is cloaked in black, with a hood that shrouds every distinguishing feature of his face except the purple triangles tattooed on each cheek. Atop his head sits a dark green, gross-looking frog, too. The ribbit thing stares at Sacha, freaking her out to infinity and more.

Mammon accepts the terms, and Sacha quickly stands (ready to get the hell away from that slimy thing). Walking away from the child, she gives them details of pickup and dismisses them. A dash of wind, cooler than last night's, passes through and carries the sound of Talbot's sweet nothings.

The five leaders of Varia immediately turn to leave, and Sacha looks back to their long-haired commander. "Superbi, you should stay behind and be cool for the first time in your life."

Squalo gives his fellow exiting Varia members a glance before giving her a quick, "No."

The others seem to carry no interest in her banter. Mammon, Belphagor, Levi, and Lussuria are out of the small house and basking in the luminous moonlight outside. A light wind calling to the assassins creeps past the fabric veiled windows; it caresses the skin.

"Ah, come on."

"I don't have time."

A sculpted brow rises as she cutely threats, "Superbi, you know blackmail is not a fun way to end a night…"

"Don't even fucking think about it," Superbi growls. He knows exactly what she is intending in the small, echoic room. The little brunette doesn't even have to start the rhyme to piss him off—the thought of the burly English prick saying it is more than enough.

The girl simpers something sinister, softly speaking Squalo's shameful, superannuated sermon. "Superbi Squalo, you think you're a shark; skin, bones, and a fat lipped smile, you're really just a carp."

Superbi is instantly beside himself with rage, remembering the high school clash all over again. The only kid who had the nerve to besmirch Squalo's name; the first kid to meet his end from the Second Sword Emperor's blade: Squalo clenched his teeth to the thought of Gregory Watson and the nasal quality of his voice. A smile forms, remembering the blonde's pig-like squeals from the sight of his intestines plopping on the white tiled, campus hallway.

The assassin's quick hand grabs Sacha's small cheeks. Her eyes widen, startled. The man growls, "Do you remember what happened to the last arrogant fuck who had the nerve to say that?"

Cheeks still smashed from Superbi's hard grip, Sacha still manages to reveal a thrilled smile while nodding yes. Who could forget their first glimpse at a school fight, and it ending with the bigger guy getting his jaw hacked off. Even better, it was hacked off by some white-haired kid still gangly from puberty. Those blue eyes begin to sparkle to one of her coolest memories ever.

Superbi shoves her away. "Then don't ever say that shit again."

Catching herself, the petite girl looks up to him and nods again. "Okay." Then she looks past him. "Oh, look. Your friends left you… This has easily become a perfect time to stay here and be cool for the second time in your life."

The man snorts, knowing that she got exactly what she wanted. Fuck em', he thought himself as he muttered, "Whatever."

The clamor of Talbot's pestle and hammer remind both of them where they are. Both pairs of eyes give the old man a brief stare and apology before an even swifter exit from the little lodge. Outside is thought to be a better place to 'stay and be cool' by both, but Sacha finds the cottage's terra cotta roof to be the best. She looks to her long-haired lover. "Superbi, give me a boost."

The Varia man easily leaps to the roof and pulls her up afterwards. "Fucking weakling."

She taunts back with a roll of her eyes. "Fucking meat head~."

The night's calm breeze dissuades Superbi from bickering further and leads him to a perfect place for sitting. The gentle whisperer leads Superbi's high school friend to sit beside him. Together they look up at the moon and few stars visible to their gazes. The sounds of shaking trees subside enough to let slip the distant call of crashing waves. But all the sounds and sights around could not shake the inexorable feeling that a significant conversation was about to take place. Sacha's mood had been so much lighter the past two nights: something big happened. Squalo's silvery eyes slide to the left. 'It's the only explanation for her threats to Mammon and her puerile teasing of the uniform.' The commander knew Sacha was smart enough not to request a death wish without the proper weapon.

"So I joined a family," the little woman next to him proclaims. Her defined cheeks bloat out for a moment. "As soon as I am done with my apprenticeship, I will be making weapons and such for them."

The news flash bothers Squalo; he has heard nothing from the Vongola about any one joining them recently. "What family did you join?"

Sacha's eyes are focused on a glimmering star. "The Cavallone."

"WHAT? YOU JOINED BUCKING HORSE'S FAMILY?"

Her expression becomes somewhat insulted. "Uhhh, yeah. Is there supposed to be something wrong with that?"

"OF COURSE THERE IS!" Squalo is damn close to swinging his sword wildly in aggravation, but realizes that he would probably kill Sacha in the process. So he just flails his other arm around like a monkey holding poop. "YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE WEAPONS FOR THE VONGOLA!"

"I will."

Superbi pauses.

"But I'm making them for Dino first."

The hot air wafting around them and the hot blood in his veins makes Squalo's body sweat. In turn he takes off his Varia patched jacket and lays it behind him. Sacha inspects the high school sweetheart's clothed chest as well as any lean, toned muscle that his black V-neck shirt allows. In the meantime, Squalo scratches his now oily scalp and mutters, "You didn't even try to join the Vongola."

The girl lets out a soft chuckle and replies softly. "You dummy. You think I would sacrifice my chance to be with you for the opportunity to be a clam?" She laughs a little louder. "You forget who you are talking to."

"What the fuck—"

She eyes him. "Fraternization—I know you have heard of it."

Squalo, who was about to respond, stops. His expression remains blank.

"Yeah," she nods, "So clam life became a quick no… Plus, I believe this is a proper thank you for a few things."

"Thank you?" Superbi questions. "For what?"

"Well, if Dino had not lied for me about what happened in the teacher's lounge, expulsion would have been the least of my problems…"

Superbi Squalo gives Sacha an piqued stare, now firmly resolved to find out what the fuck happened. All this time he just assumed that she 'quit' school like she told him those many years ago. He is also wondering how the hell Dino is involved.

Then the fair-skinned girl adds, "Not to mention his sly help during his inheritance party. We really wouldn't be where we are now without him."

Squalo ignores the added part. "What happened at St. Antonius?"

She smiles. "Indecent sexual conduct."

"What did you do?"

Her eyes slip away sheepishly. "Something stupid."

"Voi! Just fucking tell me!"

"Ugh, okay, okay." She says, throwing her hands up in surrender. "You remember the athletics teacher, the super-ripped guy one with the voice like the Teminator?"

He doesn't respond, only stares.

"Well, you know that I've never been too physically apt, and he was letting that slide because I"— she stops, trying to restrain her laughter—"let him spank me in the teachers lounge to boost my grades at the end of the semester."

Her shoulders shudder to how amusing it all is now. The teacher's outrageously deep and greasy sexual coos, the weird rhythm of his slaps, and her blonde friend who was supposed to play 'lookout' until he somehow tripped and busted the door down. The girl covers her face with her hands at the silliness of it all.

Squalo heard all he needed to hear. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

Sacha laughs more. "He will bare death for my spankings… What a romantic you are, Superbi."

Superbi grabs her by the nape of her neck. "You confessed to me at 14, and 'quit' school at 17."

"And I was nothing to you until 19. What's your point?"

"VOIII!" The angry shark whips the dainty figure over his lap and spanks her severely. The aftermath leaves his hand throbbing and the view of butt cheeks now hued a deep red. Superbi's eyes shift to see a face with tears streaming. Sacha is lying very still and taking shallow breaths to the unexpected reaction. Squalo then asks, "You let him do this for a fucking grade?"

Without bothering to wipe her tears away, Sacha looks to Superbi and bites her lip. "Yeah, I did." Then she lifts herself up and straddles the seated shark without hesitation. "But it doesn't matter since you are the only one who does it now."

Superbi watches his high school sexpot seductively smile. Her mouth opens ever so slightly to gently bite a fingertip of his warm hand. Her breaths turn heavy and her eyes tempting. Sacha smolders him with both, their center being on Squalo's hard throbbing hand. Then the bussing begins.

Sacha's ravenous kisses move up his arm, stopping only to let her small mouth bite his neck, and end their game at his tickled ear. The shark keeps his eyes closed as the shivers trickle down his body and make him grow. There are no thoughts: just hot breaths, sloppy licks, and sultry groans. Then Squalo hears his belt buckle jingle. His eyes open to Sacha's pleading expression.

"But please, Daddy Shark, you know I really like it when you use the belt."


End file.
